I find myself still pondering the surprise announcement from Warren Buffett, age 94 and CEO of Berkshire Hathaway, that he is retiring because he was “beginning to feel his age.”
I keep wanting the man to expand. Specifics on “feeling his age” would be helpful and greatly appreciated.
He did say he noticed he was operating at a different speed. Did he try a second cup of coffee?
Was there a day he dropped something on the floor and had to stop and think about which knee to go down on first so he could get back up?
Did he discover he could only sleep on his side, no longer on his stomach or back?
Did he suddenly find he loathed all his pillows? This one was too hard, this one was too soft and not a single one was “just right”?
Were neighbors asking him to turn down the volume on the television?
Was there a day that he was jolted because he needed spreadsheets printed in larger type?
Were there times he planned on telling a group of investors three things, but could only remember two?
Did he turn on the television one night and discover “Antiques Roadshow” was exciting? Did he start building his schedule around the program, “Discovering Your Roots”?
Was music in restaurants so blasted loud that it sometimes made him cranky?
Did he read those snippets on famous people having birthdays, not know most of them and think, “Who cares?”
Did he find himself grunting when moving furniture, hoisting large suitcases or pulling out the wooden cutting board?
Was he finding he often wore a heavy squall jacket when everyone else was in shorts and T-shirts?
Was he gazing out a window for long periods of time wondering if one of those cute little nuthatch birds would stop by? Or maybe a chickadee?
Had he started feeding squirrels and naming them?
Did he get a thrill one day when buying spray paint at Walmart a clerk demanded I.D. for proof of age?
Did someone give him an electric blanket for Christmas, and he later realized his thanks was over-the-top effusive?
I’ll miss Warren Buffett in the investment arena. He was a steady table in a world of three-legged chairs.